


Reise, Reise

by Tazzy_Ladynero



Category: Trinity Blood
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, My own head cannon, No Spoilers, just some Halloween crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-30 04:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tazzy_Ladynero/pseuds/Tazzy_Ladynero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every year, Father Abel Nightroad leaves for vacation at the end of October.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reise, Reise

**Author's Note:**

> Just an FYI: I have my own head cannon for Trinity Blood which involved the human military creating the Crusniks as living weapons against the Methuselah. Eventually I will write up that story and post it. So, please don't start reading this thinking that it's the same background as the original creator intended. I didn't fully discover his version of events until long *after* I started playing in this fandom.
> 
> I can't quite remember what started this off, but I know it has spawned a sequel that was a NaNo project for last year I think. I definitely need to finish that and edit it majorly before it goes up here *laughs* I know there are some sexual overtones but I don't believe there is anything blatantly said. At least not in this story. So! Enjoy this Halloween treat.

Reaching into his closet, Abel Nightroad pulled out a white robe trimmed in blue. Folded in it was the black outfit he wore under it, and he easily changed out of the black priest’s robes. This wasn’t a time for the priest so he was going to be left here until after Abel returned.

A quick rap on the door alerted him to the person there before Father Leon Garica de Asturia was poking his head in the room. “Yo, Father Four-Eyes! You here?”

“Yes, Leon,” remarked Abel, placing the glasses he normally wore on his bedside table next to his earclips. He heard Leon enter the room and close the door as Abel tugged the ribbon from his hair, letting it fall to his knees. 

“Is it that time already? Man, where does the time go?” mused Leon, and Abel turned to find him leaning against the door with a small smile on his face. He turned back and verified that his revolver was locked away in a box. He wouldn’t need it until he returned. Besides, that was the priest’s weapon. 

Abel glanced over at Leon, a small smirk on his face. “You weren’t thinking about following me were you, Leon?”

Instantly, Leon shook his head. “Nah, but Esther’s been asking after you.” He snorted. “I wouldn’t put it past her to try to follow you. Just a head’s up.”

“If she does, she will learn the consequences of her actions,” Abel said with a shrug of a shoulder as he glanced around one last time. He didn’t see anything that he needed to take with him so he moved past Leon to leave the room. He stopped to glance at Leon. “Give my well wishes to your daughter and I’ll see you in a few days.” Leon nodded and tossed him a small salute before Abel wandered down the hallways towards the entrance of the Vatican. 

Abel nodded at a few people he recognized in the hallways but didn’t stop to speak to any of them, a bit anxious to begin his small three day vacation. He noticed Sister Esther Blanchet hurrying towards him but ignored her as he walked out of the building. A quick nod and a smirk to Catarina who nodded back, and Abel was sweeping down the sidewalk to the front gates and freedom for the first time in a year.

***  
Esther huffed as she watched Father Nightroad slip out past the guards at the front gate. She had been hoping to catch him to ask him to accompany her to the Harvest Feast, but each time she asked one of her co-workers where he was, they simply replied that he had other plans and not to bother him. That he would be back in a few days.

She glanced up as Cardinal Sforza walked up to her, gray eyes on Father Nightroad’s back. Perhaps the Cardinal would be able to answer her question. "Where does Father Nightroad go when he leaves like that? I talked with some of the others, and they said he leaves around this time every year."

"Don't follow him."

"Your Eminence?" She looked up at the Cardinal to find something akin to guilt on her face.

"That isn't a suggestion," the woman said, finally glancing to Esther as the sunlight flashed off her monocle. "It's an order."

"Y-yes, ma'am..." Despite the Cardinal’s abruptness, she couldn't contain her curiosity. "Do you know where he goes?"

"Yes." That was guilt in her eyes, and sadness, as if whatever she knew had come at a higher price than she had expected to pay. Before Esther could ask anything more, the Cardinal turned and walked away, dismissing the matter entirely. Esther turned back to stare after Father Nightroad with a frown. Where did he go every year at this time? He was always gone for four days, leaving on the 28th and returning on the 2nd, but no one could tell her where he went or what he did.

Drawing herself up, she squared her shoulders and started after Father Nightroad with a determined stride, never noticing the gray eyes that watched her nor the quiet conversation between the Cardinal and one of her subordinates.

***

With a content sigh, Abel stretched out on the seat in his compartment and folded his hands behind his head as he basked in the sunlight. It was a five hour trip to Nachtstadt, a small self sustaining town three hours outside of Vienna, and while it would have taken him less time to find another way there, taking the train was part of his ritual. The conductor had already taken his ticket, the blinds were pulled on the windows to the rest of the car, and he had the compartment entirely to himself for the full five hours. Absently, he wondered if there was anyone else on the train to Nachtstadt with him or if he was the only passenger getting off at that particular town. 

He listened to the bustle of people finding their compartments on the train, trying to deduce who was who by the scents and sounds they made passing by his door. The heavy footsteps and grunting grumbles of a man was a well off businessman who enjoyed many fine meals but carried his business with him in his suitcase. The rustling of several skirts followed by the strong cheap smell of a very expensive perfume was a woman who was trying to appear younger than she was. The nearly silent, even tread of footsteps accompanied by the scent of ozone and gunpowder, and he frowned, knowing only one person who carried those distinct scents. What was Tres doing on the train? Did Catarina send him after Abel for some reason? That wasn’t like her at all. A few minutes later, he had his answer when there was another rustling of skirts but this time accompanied by the scent of gunpowder, spices and incense. 

Sister Esther. She had decided to follow Abel, and Catarina had sent Tres to follow her. He shook his head and decided that he was going to have to do something about her if only to keep from losing his few days of freedom. Perhaps if he confronted her early enough then he could send her back to the Vatican with Tres as a babysitter, and Abel could go on his merry way, enjoying his vacation. After all, what right did she have to ruin his vacation, his time for freedom? Everyone was entitled to a few days off a year, and just because he took them at the same time every year didn’t mean anything. At least not to the others. What made Esther so special that she had to come along? Hell, he didn’t even bring Catarina along on his vacations, and she was far more worthy to come than Esther. 

He wondered what her excuse would be to why she followed him. It would be interesting to see if she would tell him the truth or try to come up with an excuse such as a mission. If she told the truth, he would send her back with Tres with a stern talking and let Catarina punish her. If she lied, however, he would still send her back to Tres, but he would ensure that she wouldn’t be able to sit the entire time. And then he’d let Catarina punish her further.

A smirk curled his lips as he relaxed as the train gave a jerk and started on its way. 

Eventually, Abel dozed off, the warm sunshine and the swaying of the train lulling him asleep. He never realized the picture he made, stretched out with his long hair around him and bathed in the sunlight, looking like a slumbering prince waiting for the right moment to awaken and begin his quest to save the kingdom. All that was missing was a coronet to state his pedigree to the world.

It was the polite knock on his door and the announcement of Nachtstadt in five minutes that woke Abel. Yawning, he stretched and rose to his feet, brushing a few wrinkles out of his clothes. Moving out into the corridor, he easily maneuvered his way to an outer door and nodded to the conductor who opened it as the train stopped in the Nachtstadt station. He quickly made his way over to a support beam and hid behind it, watching those that left the train, recognizing a few of the regular people who belonged to the town itself. 

His eyes narrowed as Esther daintily stepped off the train, her skirts held in one hand as she looked around with wide eyes before she wrinkled her nose at the small town. With a flick of her hand, she brushed her skirts out and started towards the town, determination in her stride. Abel felt like throttling her as he spotted several people eyeing her with wariness and fear. The little idiot hadn’t even changed out of her habit before following him. That was going to cause tension until she was gone.

Emerging from behind the pillar once she had left the station, Abel glanced at the train again as Tres emerged. At least he had changed into a pair of pants and a blue sweater even if he was still armed. Abel caught Tres’ attention and motioned him over. 

“Tres, what is Esther doing here?” he inquired when the android was close enough that they could talk without being overheard easily.

“Disobeying a direct order to not follow you,” Tres replied, and Abel nodded, thoughtfully. He had suspected Catarina had told her not to follow him, but to hear that she was disobeying a direct order from Cardinal Sforza was a surprise. He thought Esther had more brains than to do such a thing.

“Purchase a return ticket for both you and Esther for the next available train. We will be at the Lonely Widow tavern.” A smirk curled his lips. “It’s the only inn in town.” 

Tres nodded and Abel made his way down the street, nodding to various people that he knew, calling out greetings to others and promises to help once he settled a problem. Shoulders relaxed as he passed, his words spreading through the town along with the knowledge that he would take care of the apparent problem that arrived on the train.

When he walked into the Lonely Widow, a wave of relief rippled through the room, and he nodded to many of the patrons as he walked up to the bar. Esther was standing there trying to get a room for the night while poor Fritz was explaining that they were booked up for the week, but she kept insisting, citing her connection with the Vatican. Shaking his head, Abel wrapped an arm around her waist and slapped his other hand across her mouth as he picked her up off the floor. She started kicking and screaming behind his hand as he tucked her under his arm with ease.

“May I borrow your back room for a little bit?” Abel asked, his voice polite and casual as if he didn’t have a struggling nun under his arm.

Fritz smiled, revealing sharp teeth, and nodded. “Of course, my friend. Take as long as you like.”

Abel smiled back and nodded his thanks. “Oh, there will be a gentleman within the quarter hour coming in looking for myself or the troublesome one here. Feel free to send him back to claim her leash.”

That got some good natured laughter from a few people as Abel carried Esther into the back room where private meetings were generally held. He kicked the door shut and dumped Esther on the floor before walking over to the sidebar where decanters were waiting for customers along with a couple bottles of red wine. One bottle was already open, allowing the wine to breathe, and he smiled at Fritz’s thoughtfulness.

“There was no cause to treat me in such a heavy handed manner, Father Nightroad,” she huffed, climbing to her feet and brushing imaginary dust from her skirts. “I was simply trying to secure a room for the night.”

“Shut up,” he ordered, his voice almost casual as he poured himself a glass of the wine. One of the better vintages of the area and quite delicious in his opinion. He placed the bottle on the sidebar before turning to face her, the glass cradled in his fingers. She was standing there, gaping at him as he moved to sit down. He enjoyed the stunned silence for a few minutes as he sipped his wine, enjoying the smooth flavor.

“Why are you here?” he asked, staring at her as he crossed his legs, the picture of casual elegance. “There are no missions in this area, and no reason for you to be here.” He tilted his head slightly, waiting.

She bit her lip and twisted her fingers as he calmly stared at her, occasionally sipping his wine, waiting for her to answer him. Finally, she blurted out her answer. “I was following you.”

He paused and tilted his head, still staring at her with unblinking eyes. “Why would you do that? You were informed that I leave every year and would return in a few days.”

“Because I wanted to ask you to the Harvest Festival,” she explained, before continuing as if she had to get everything out before she forgot. “You left before I could catch you, and then Her Eminence said that she knew where you went but she wouldn’t tell me so I had to follow you.”

“What else did Catarina tell you?” he inquired, curious to know if she would tell him about disobeying a direct order.

She shrugged. “Nothing else.” But she wouldn’t look at him, her eyes dancing around the room to avoid his own gaze.

“Liar.” The word hung in the air as he put his glass down and rose to his feet. She was gaping at him again, not expecting him to call her on her lie, and he loomed over her. “Catarina ordered you not to follow me, yet you still did.”

Shaking her head in denial, Esther stared at him with wide eyes only to yelp as he grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. “Yes you did. Now, why did you follow me? This is my time. Everyone is allowed a vacation and time to themselves, so why are you here, following me like some obsessed stalker?”

“I am not!” she protested, her hands clutching his wrist as she tried to free her hair from his grip. “I was worried about you!”

He growled and hauled her over to the chair, throwing her across his lap before yanking her skirts up, getting a shriek from the girl. “No. You decided to indulge your curiosity, disobeying a direct order to do so, and followed me without my permission on my vacation. That sounds like a stalker or a very bad little girl. Which are you?” 

“I am not a stalker!” she cried, thrashing and trying to get free, and Abel was almost happy to see her face flushed with embarrassment. Perhaps this was exactly what was needed to get it through her head that she wasn’t the most important person in the Vatican or even the world.

He smirked. “Then you must be a bad little girl, and since you insist on acting like a spoiled child, I shall treat you like one.”

He braced one arm across her waist, keeping her pinned to his lap before yanking her underwear down to bare her bottom. Then he started spanking her, being careful not to use his full strength but that was the only consideration he gave her. She squealed and screamed, throwing out threats and pleas, but he ignored them all. Tres entered the room while Abel was still turning her bottom as red as her hair, but he stood to the side, waiting until Abel was finished. Finally, he pulled her panties back up before shoving her to her feet. She stood there, sobbing, as one hand reached back to rub her very sore bottom, her shoulders slumped.

“Tres will return you to the Vatican where I want you to think about your behavior,” Abel stated, reaching over to pick up his glass of wine again. “Ask yourself if you would do anything like this to any of your other co-workers. You will also confess everything to Catarina and accept whatever punishment she deems necessary for you disobeying her order.” He stared at her, ignoring the tears running down her face. “I will also expect an honest apology from you when I return as well as your solemn promise to never follow me without my permission again.”

He nodded to Tres who walked forward and grabbed Esther’s arm. Then the android simply pulled her out of the room, leaving Abel alone in the room. He sighed and dropped his head back on the chair, softly growling as he tried to calm down again. He hoped that Catarina would make her so very miserable for even thinking about following him on his time off. Everyone was entitled to some free time, so why did she think he was the only one not allowed to go anywhere without her supervision?

Shaking his head, he drained the glass as he stood up, and he grabbed the open bottle before walking out into the common room. There would be time to think about that later. Now, he was going to relax for the rest of the day with his friends.

***

Grunting, Abel picked up the large rock and moved it back to the ring of stone in the center of the clearing. There had been a small rockslide that had covered half of the area and everyone who could was working to clean it up before the 31st. The area was a grassy expanse that was surrounded on three sides by rocks and low mountains, forming a mostly sheltered area. The center held a large stone ring to make a fire pit while the grass was thick enough to make it comfortable to sit on the ground. 

He glanced over and allowed a fond smile to touch his lips at the sight of two teenagers working to clean off the throne that had been carved from a large granite boulder. This would be the first year they would be old enough to attend the celebration, and he wondered how they would enjoy it. After all, Halloween was a time for those who were different from the humans to revel in what they were.

During Armageddon, Halloween had been all but forgotten by most people. They were too busy trying to survive as human and Methuselah hunted each other through the nights and days to worry about some sort of simple fall festival. After things calmed down, farmers were the ones who celebrated the harvest, and finally someone found an old record about Halloween, and revived it as a Harvest Festival.

Of course, they didn't remember what it was truly about.

The Methuselah did. The Crusniks did. And not even their military handlers could hide that instinctive, bone-deep knowledge of the one night of the year that they were allowed to think, not about either side of the war, but of themselves. It was the one night of the year when Abel put everything aside, his role as Father Nightroad, his guilt, his indecision, and simply reveled in being Crusnik. 

The town of Nachtstadt was created by those that were different than humans. Methuselah, witches, werewolves, it didn’t matter what they were as long as they weren’t human. It wasn’t that they disliked humans so much as Nachtstadt was a refuge from the persecution that humans brought with them against anyone different. The town was mostly self sufficient with everyone growing their own food with other things coming from Vienna, like general goods, but only during Halloween was the town filled to the point of bursting with beings who didn’t normally live there. Those that could, showed up early to help get ready for the celebration while others stayed afterwards to help clean up.

Glancing around, he noticed that most of the smaller rocks were already cleared from the area and some of the ladies were starting to bring armfuls of wood to pile into the fire pit. A few teenage boys were staggering after them, loaded down with logs even as they tried to impress the girls with their strength. There was some giggles from some girls before quick words from an adult sent them scrambling back to their jobs, and Abel shook his head as he grabbed another boulder. Was he ever that young?

“Jack!” Abel glanced over as someone called the name he was known by here and grinned as a young half-Methuselah approached him, carrying a large umbrella to keep the sun off of him. Jacob resembled a human in his early twenties with shoulder length brown hair and delicate features, and the look he was sending Abel made the silver haired man’s body twitch with interest. He quickly moved over, adding the boulder to the fire ring before devoting his full attention to Jacob.

The half-Methuselah hurried over to him and looked up at Abel with a small smile. “I’m glad to see you here all ready, Jack. My father’s finally relented and is going to change me fully to a Methuselah.”

“That’s wonderful, Jacob,” remarked Abel with a bright smile. Jacob had been trying for the last decade to become a Methuselah like his father, but the only way he could was if his father fully changed him. “Will you be recovered in time for the revel?”

Jacob nodded, his dark hair bouncing around his shoulders before he glanced up at Abel a bit shy. “I was wondering if you would be my first that night.”

Reaching out, Abel cupped that face, brushing his thumb against that soft cheek. “I would be honored. Come find me after the lottery winners have gone.” He grinned. “Unless you plan on entering into the lottery yourself.”

That got a blush but a speculative gleam in Jacob’s eye. The lottery was something Abel had come up with decades ago when some of the Methuselah actually got into fights over who would offer him their blood and their bodies first. To make it fair, he had five fist sized rubies found and cut before announcing at the next celebration that things were going to be different. All the names of those who wanted to give their blood to Abel to sate his appetite were put into a pot and five winners were drawn. These five were each given one of the rubies to give to Abel when they approached him as proof that they won. He never asked for more than they were willing to give, and the blood he drank that night was sufficient to tide him over the rest of the year with whatever was spilled in battle and his cups of highly sugared tea.

Abel bent and kissed Jacob’s lips. “Better hurry back to your parents before they discover you’re out here without them.”

Jacob hummed into the kiss and leaned forward for more. “Don’t make logical arguments like that. I might just ignore them.”

Laughing, Abel kissed his lips one last time before shooing the young man off. He had to help get the clearing ready for the revel and he couldn’t do that while Jacob was distracting him with other thoughts. There would be more than enough time for physical gratification later.

The group worked until after sunset when the Methuselah emerged from their homes to assist in the clean up. With their help, it went a great deal faster and the clearing was finally ready for the revel. The large slabs that doubled as tables were scrubbed clean of the dirt and moss that had developed on them during the year, and the throne was completely cleaned, the granite glittering in the almost full moon. That had been a surprise gift from the townsfolk after he started the lottery. The stone carver at the time and his apprentice had carved it out of the rock itself, even adding the six steps that lead up to it. The arms resembled carved jack o’ lanterns, with the one under the left hand hollowed out to hold the lottery rubies, while the back was wispy, formless spirits rising towards the sky in a cloud. When the firelight hit it, the granite would sparkle and glitter, giving him an almost unearthly appearance when he sat in it. The arms had even been carved with his wings in mind.

All the workers wandered back to town, gathering in the Lonely Widow for dinner and drinks. There were friendly greetings for Abel from those that had not joined the rest of them in the field, getting it cleaned, and Abel paused here and there, chatting and laughing with people on his way to the bar. There were times when he wanted to abandon the Vatican, the Empire and the rest of the world and just live here, peacefully, among those he could call friends, but then something happens, giving him the chance to make the difference as Father Nightroad of the AX and those thoughts of leaving the Vatican are dismissed.

He claimed a seat near the fire just as a shadow fell over the table, and Abel looked up to find Isaak von Kampfar standing there, an amused smile on his lips. The Methuselah was dressed in a pair of dark jeans that looked almost painted on with the legs tucked into knee high black boots laced up the fronts. He wore a soft green sweater that dipped low to show off his long elegant neck, and Abel had to wonder what was going on. It wasn’t that Isaak was unwelcome, but none of Cain’s Order had ever attended the revel, including Cain.

“May I help you?” inquired Abel, his voice polite if a bit bored. There was a flicker of surprise in Isaak’s eyes, and Abel couldn’t help but mentally smirk. He was quite the actor, having perfected his ability since Armageddon, and if he wanted to pretend he had never met Isaak before in his life, he could do so and make it quite believable.

“I was hoping to speak to you on behalf of Mein Herr, Father Nightroad,” remarked Isaak. Unable to help it, Abel stated laughing, getting a confused look from Isaak.

“Do you see a Vatican priest here, my Methuselah?” asked Abel, gesturing around the room, and he watched Isaak take a deliberate look around the room. “If you’re looking for the Vatican, try Rome. It’s about five hours by train that way.” He gestured in the general direction of the Vatican.

There was some laughter in the room from the other patrons. “If you’re looking for the Vatican, Jack already sent the bit of fluff packing when she showed up,” called Fritz from the bar, getting more laughter.

Looking back at Abel, Isaak tilted his head. “Forgive my ignorance. I was sent by Mein Herr to speak with a silver haired gentleman, whom I believed to be Father Nightroad, as we had met previously. You do bear a resemblance to him, but as it had only been a passing meeting, I am apparently mistaken.”

“I am the only one here with silver hair,” Abel remarked with a wave towards the chair across from him. “Perhaps I might do.”

Isaak stared at him before glancing around the room. “Might I ask for a private conversation? As you are a stranger to myself, and I do not wish to offend any of your fine friends here.”

Abel nodded but made no move to get up. “Once I have finished eating. Please excuse my manners, but we have all been working hard to get things ready for the celebration.”

“Ah.” Isaak sank into the offered chair, and it was all Abel could do not to smirk outright at the tension that radiated through the Methuselah. It is a small payback for everything that Isaak had put him through, especially for killing Sister Noelle while all Abel could do was listen to her death. He forced those thoughts away, not wanting any nightmares while he was here. He was here to relax and leave those problems behind, and if he did end up having nightmares, then he was going to ensure that Isaak and Cain both regretted coming here the next time he saw them.

Fritz wandered over with a glass of wine and a goblet of water in his hands, placing them before Isaak with an inquiry if he was hungry only to be politely refused. After several minutes of tense silence on Isaak’s side of the table, Abel finally finished his meal and drink. He rose from the table and motioned Isaak to follow him into the back room after discretely dropping some money on the bar as he passed. Fritz made the money vanish with a nod of understanding, and Abel allowed an amused smile to curl his lips. Fritz would keep everyone out of the back room no matter what they heard coming from it.

As soon as the door was shut behind Isaak, Abel had him against it with his fingers around the Methuselah’s throat as that pretty head cracked against the door. Black wings were spread behind Abel, making him appear larger and more threatening as he bared his fangs. “Give me one reason why I don’t rip your throat out before throwing your thoroughly abused body at my brother’s feet.”

“Truce!” gasped Isaak, his eyes wide as he clawed at Abel’s arm, trying to free his throat from the iron grip Abel had on it. “He wants truce for Halloween. Wants to come. Talk. Relax. Not fight.”

Abel didn’t say anything for several minutes as he stared at Isaak, causing the Methuselah to try harder to get away. Why did Cain want to show up now of all times? Was he hoping to get his truce only to provoke Abel into attacking him and claiming to be the innocent party? That wouldn’t be beyond him, but Abel had a secret up his sleeve. Cain was use to how Abel normally acted as Father Nightroad with the guilt, angst and hesitance in killing, but here, in Nachtstadt, none of that existed.

“Very well. Cain can have his truce for the night,” purred Abel, slowly closing his wings against his back. “But on a couple of conditions.” Isaak nodded as best as he could with Abel’s fingers around his neck. “One. You are the only one allowed to accompany him. If Dietrich shows up, I’ll kill him personally. Two. There is no Father Abel Nightroad or the Vatican here. This is my vacation, and if I beat Esther Blanchette’s butt until it was as red as her hair for following me, just think what I’ll do to you or Cain. After all, she’s an ally. If Cain can’t follow those simple conditions, then don’t bother returning here.”

Isaak’s eyes were almost comically wide but he managed to nod in agreement. Abel stepped back, letting his claws cut the delicate skin of Isaak’s neck before dropping back to his side. Then Abel turned his back on him, walking over to stare out the window in an obvious dismissal, and a few seconds later, there was a whisper of shadows wrapping around Isaak and whisking him back to Cain’s side. 

Shaking his head, Abel reached down to adjust himself in his pants, an amused smile on his face. There was no denying that Isaak was attractive and having him at his mercy was a definite turn on for Abel. He wouldn’t mind tying Isaak to his bed and torturing him with pleasure before ensuring that neither of them could walk easily for the next day. Shaking his head, he dismissed those thoughts for now and went to rejoin everyone in the common room. There would be more than enough time later to entertain such thoughts in the privacy of his room.

***

The moon hung in the sky, full, silver, and heavy, as people started gathering at the clearing. Those of the musical persuasion, sirens, banshees, and the ones with instruments, gathered in one corner where the acoustics were the best, allowing them to be heard without straining themselves. Others gathered around the unlit fire pit, stacked high with dry wood just waiting a spark to burst into flames, and by unsaid agreement, a path was left open to the throne. Soft conversations were starting, but a growing excitement and tension was filling the air as the seconds passed while five rubies were nervously twisted in certain hands.

Someone started a steady drumming, the thumping in perfect harmony with the beating of a heart, and as a second drum took up the beat, conversations fell silent. All eyes turned towards the entrance of the grotto, each one hoping to be the first to see him and wondering who would have the honor of escorting him in this year. More and more drums took up the beat, and clouds drifted across the moon, plunging the world into darkness. Everything seemed to be waiting, holding its breath as the darkness lingered. Then, just as suddenly as it vanished, the moon reappeared from behind the clouds, bathing the world in silvery radiance once more as gasps of surprised delight filled the air.

Forming an honor guard was the local werewolf pack, heads held high as they entered the grotto to line the path to the throne. Throwing their heads back, they opened their throats and howled to the silver orb in the sky, welcoming their Alpha and the ruler of this night. Fritz proudly walked down the lines his pack made as a figure of silver and black sat on his back with ease and comfort. Wings flexed with each step from the massive wolf, each feather preened until it gleamed in the moonlight as his silver hair flickered and swayed like a lost soul above him. Black leather pants that were painted on his legs made more than one person moan as they saw the pale skin flashing between the laces that ran from ankle to hip on each leg. They were also the only thing he was wearing. As they walked past the fire pit, there was a crack of lightning jumping from his hand to strike the wood, sending it roaring into flames to the delight of the crowd.

Stopping before the throne, the horse-sized wolf lowered himself to the ground, and Abel swung a leg over his head to slide off. He cradled Fritz’s muzzle in his hands before nuzzling him and placing a kiss on his nose only to laugh when a large tongue licked his face. He waved Fritz off before moving up to sit on the throne, his wings shifting to settle in the grooves carved specifically for them. A young girl approached the throne and held out the goblet to Abel who took it with a smile before rising to his feet. All noises, save for the crackling of the wood burning, stopped as even the night seemed to be holding its breath.

“Once more, we gather on this most auspicious of nights to celebrate what is means to be us,” Abel began, his voice ringing out through the grotto. “Tonight, we cast aside the masks worn and roles played to keep humans ignorant of our true natures. There are no Methuselah or humans here. There are only vampires, werewolves, witches, and other beings that humans are right to fear. Tonight, while they are celebrating the harvest behind locked doors, we will be celebrating what this night is truly about. A meaning that the humans have forgotten but that lives on in our very blood. Tonight is our night!”

Calls of celebration filled the air, mixing with the howls of the werewolves and pounding of hands, and Abel drained the goblet in his hand before sinking back down on his throne. The pounding of drums started again, this time with other instruments and the unearthly beautiful voices of the sirens and banshees twining around the music, and Abel smiled in delight as he relaxed. The scent of food filled the air and some were already migrating that way while the younger ones were pulling each other out into the area cleared between the fire and the musicians to dance. 

A young woman walked up, nervous excitement on her face, and Abel smiled at her as he held out his hand. She placed her ruby in it and he dropped it into the opening located in the arm of the throne before curling his fingers around her wrist. Gently tugging, he pulled her into his lap and curled a finger under her chin. “What do you offer me this night, my lovely vampiress?”

“Blood, Sire,” she whispered, trembling slightly, and Abel brushed his lips across hers, purring softly.

“What has you so nervous, young one?” he inquired, brushing the back of his fingers along her cheek. “I make sure to make it as pleasurable as possible.”

She ducked her head and fiddled with her fingers. “My fiancé is watching, Sire.”

He nodded and turned her in his lap, pulling her back against his chest before wrapping an arm around her waist. She shivered but relaxed some, not protesting when he nuzzled her throat. “Look at him. Hold his eyes as I drink from you and imagine it is him.”

Not giving her a chance to protest, he eased his fangs into her neck, getting a soft moan, and he purred as her blood slipped over his tongue. It was warm and so alive, and he sealed his lips over his fangs to keep from spilling a single drop. She panted and gasped in his arms, but he ignored that, concentrating on the warmth and strength that was spreading through him, chasing away the chill that slowly grew over the year. Finally, he forced himself to stop and lifted his head to lick the wound until it closed. Only then did he raise his head and nod to the young vampire that was nervously fidgeting to come collect her.

Relaxing on his throne, Abel purred as he let his eyes slip partially closed and enjoyed the feelings spreading through him. It was always so wonderful to be able to drink freely instead of what he could steal during fights, but drinking freely during the rest of the year isn’t something the priest would do. Not with the guilt he carried like a martyr.

Near silent footsteps reached his ears, and Abel opened his eyes to find Cain standing there with Isaak. The stunned and wary look on Cain’s face was almost comical, and Abel’s smile transformed into a sharp smirk as Isaak tried hiding behind Cain’s wings. At least they could follow directions since he didn’t see anyone else from the Order.

“What brings you here, Contra Mundi?” purred Abel, and Cain twitched as if Isaak had goosed him. Well that was unusual. Abel watched with hooded eyes as Cain slowly got control of his emotions and managed to get a smug mask into place, but Abel could see how thin it was. That was very interesting. Was the mask always so thin and he had never noticed, or was it thin because Abel was the one in charge tonight?

Cain tilted his head, causing the firelight to shimmer off his blond hair, turning it reddish gold. “I came to give my thanks at being allowed to attend you celebration tonight. As requested, I brought only my one retainer.”

“Why now?”

That got a blink and a confused frown. “I didn’t think it prudent to approach when you were.... entertaining yourself.”

Shaking his head, Abel stared at his twin brother. “Why are you bothering to come to the revelry now Cain Knightlord? This has been happening for centuries. Those here even going as far as to build a town nearby for their safety, but you have never approached before or even snuck in.”

“Because I have been more active in the world and felt it would be appropriate to make my appearance here, where my goal is visible to everyone,” Cain began, gesturing at those that were gathered around, interacting without fear. “Vampires and others who are different unafraid of what they are.” His hand came around to point at Abel. “All ruled over by a Crusnik, the most powerful here.”

Unable to help it, Abel started laughing, and a frown appeared on Cain’s face. Was that truly how Cain saw this? “There are no rulers here, Cain Knightlord. Yes, I am the most powerful here, but don’t think that it is a right to sit here. It is a privilege, one that is granted by those very people you believe I rule.”

“But you were drinking from that vampire,” protested Cain, and Abel fished the ruby out of the hollow, holding it up to glitter in the firelight.

“Yes, the first of my lottery winners,” he purred with a smirk. 

“Lottery?” Cain was starting to look a bit lost, and Abel decided it was a good look for him.

The silver haired Crusnik nodded. “It was the only way to stop the fights.”

There was another confused sound from Cain, and Abel sighed, shaking his head. “Really Cain, use that pretty little head of yours for something other than your ego.” That got a low, threatening growl from Cain. The blond had always been touchy about his looks which was strange considering how many times Abel was mistaken for a woman. “You know how pleasurable the bite can be, and so do they. To keep them from killing each other for the chance to feed me, I created the lottery.”

“But why when you could have all of them here, begging to serve you like a god?” In that moment, Abel felt pity for Cain because he truly didn’t understand. He had always thought Cain was so wonderful, but now that he was older and had the experience of having friends as well as trusted allies, he realized just how alone Cain was.

“Why would I want my friends to treat me like a god?” Abel shook his head when all he got was a confused noise from Cain, and he waved his hand. “Go and talk to them. Find out their opinions and thoughts, but if you attack any of them because you don’t like their answer, I will kill you and ensure that you don’t come back from the dead this time.” 

The promise was said in a calm, almost pleasant voice, but Cain shivered at the violence behind the words. Even Isaak whimpered and shrank back behind Cain, eyes wide. Abel waved them off, a welcoming smile stretching across his face as Jacob approached, an excited look in his eyes and a ruby in his hands. 

***

Humming in time with the music, Abel relaxed on his throne, well fed and satisfied. It had been a few hours since he had shooed Cain off to go talk to the others gathered in the celebration, and he had occasionally heard laughter, drawing his attention to find Cain glaring at whomever was laughing. If nothing else, his brother was amusing the crowd. 

He shifted, resting his head on his fist as he yawned and let his eyes droop as he basked in the firelight. He wasn’t tired, having slept for most of the day, just content and relaxed. Three of his five winners had offered their bodies along with their blood, and he was just happy that they had spaced it out to give him time to recover and enjoy each one. Jacob had been almost insatiable once he got started and had nearly worn Abel out.

The nearly silent sounds of someone approaching had him looking up as Isaak approached with a pair of goblets in his hands. Silently, he held one out to Abel who smiled as he accepted it, and a quick sniff as he brought it to his face revealed spiced cider and only spiced cider.

“Enjoying yourself?’ Abel inquired, sipping his drink. The warm cider slipped down his throat, and he softly purred as he felt it settle in his stomach.

“It has been... enlightening,” began Isaak, rolling the goblet between his hands, and Abel looked up at him before shifting enough to pat the arm of the throne. Isaak glanced at him, a bit startled, before cautiously sinking down to sit on the solid arm. Abel simply waited as Isaak went back to studying the liquid in his goblet, knowing the vampire would either get around to telling him or he wouldn’t. But it would be Isaak’s decision, and one he wouldn’t push. Perhaps he might be able to get the beautiful vampire away from Cain.

After a few minutes, Isaak’s eyes flicked to Abel, studying him. “Those who live here are not afraid of humans, but wary as they should be. Yes, the village is as self-sufficient as it can be, but there isn’t the overlaying feel of desperation and secrets like in so many close to human settlements.” He shook his head and took a drink from his goblet. “When Mein Herr asked a few what it was like under your rule, they laughed at him. Said you didn’t rule here. Oh, the position of mayor had been offered to you, but you had turned it down, citing promises unfulfilled.”

“Do you know how much paperwork there is when you’re in charge of something?” Abel inquired, and Isaak sighed heavily and nodded. That got a laugh from Abel. “Cain still not doing his own work?” He shook his head. “He always hated writing his own reports, doing his best to trick either myself or Seth into writing it for him, depending on who had been on the mission with him.” He looked at Isaak. “Why do you follow him? You are intelligent and beautiful in your own right. Why hide that light behind Cain’s banner?”

“The money for one thing,” Isaak admitted with a shrug. “He does pay well.”

“And the other thing?” Abel chuckled at Isaak’s surprised look. “You did say ‘for one thing’ which usually indicates other reasons.”

Isaak chuckled. “Leave it to you to figure that out.” He absently drained his drink before shrugging a shoulder. “The sex is fabulous. Probably the best I’ve had in my life. He offers just the right mix of pleasure and pain even when holding my leash before pointing me at his enemies. Not to mention highly entertaining.”

Tilting his head, Abel studied the vampire sitting on the arm of his throne. There was something about how he had said those words combined with the look in his eyes that spoke of something else, something he had only vaguely heard about during Armageddon. “Tell me, do you have a conscious at all?”

That got him a confused look and Abel nodded, a smirk spreading across his face. Reaching up, he twined a lock of dark hair around his hand, enjoying the feel of it. “What if another could give you the pleasure and pain you desired? Perhaps find a way to entertain you in other ways?”

“What of the money?” Isaak inquired, staring down at Abel, and Abel’s smirk grew at the interest in those dark eyes even as he tightened his grip on the lock of hair, pulling just enough to put a bit of tension on his scalp.

“Do you honestly think Cain is the only one who has put a sizable amount of money aside over the centuries?” He snorted and shook his head. “And unlike him, I haven’t been wasting my money on funding a private army determined to take over the world. Do you realize how expensive such an endeavor is?” Abel had an idea himself from helping Catarina with the budget for the AX, and they weren’t funding other terrorist cells nor manipulating other people into doing things for them. Both things that cost a great deal of money, no matter how much was stolen from other people. He tilted his head and stared at him. “But is the money all that important? With what he must be paying you, you must have an impressive account yourself.”

Isaak purred and grinned at him, fangs flashing in the firelight. “Very true, but how could you entertain me? You work at the Vatican.”

“Only until my promise is fulfilled to Catarina,” Abel remarked with a casual shrug. “A promise that Cain is determined to keep from being fulfilled.”

“How am I keeping a promise to your pretty little bird unfulfilled?” inquired Cain, wandering up to stand before Abel. A golden brow was raised at the sight of Abel’s hand holding a lock of Isaak’s hair, but nothing was said.

Rolling his eyes, Abel stared at Cain. Surely he wasn’t that thick was he? “Because you keep trying to restart Armageddon, thus keeping me chained to Catarina since I promised her I would help her until peace was achieved between the Empire and the human kingdoms.”

If Abel had hit Cain across the back of the head with a board, he wouldn’t look quite so stunned. Abel sipped at his goblet before looking at his twin with a curious expression. “What, exactly, do you plan to do after Armageddon round two is happening?”

“I will wait with the Order, and when the time is right, I will emerge and rule as a god,” Cain stated only to glare at Abel when the silver haired man started laughing, uncontrollably. “What is so funny, Brother?”

“You, who have always hated to do your reports and even now hate to do any paper work, want to rule as a god. What is to keep both sides from turning against you as a mutual enemy?” drawled Abel, wondering just where his brain was. Surely this wasn’t the same man who had lead them to victory time and again against the humans during Armageddon? Had being ejected out of the airlock done that much damage to his mind to reduce him to the idiot before him? “If you want to rule somewhere so badly, head to the Desolate Lands or even Africa and carve out a kingdom of your own. The gods only know how much land is truly out there, unclaimed and waiting. How hard would it be to head out there, carve out a kingdom or an empire for yourself, and rule it as you see fit. As long as you don’t bring war to Europe and the kingdoms here, none will have any reason to interfere with your ruling.”

There was some speculation in that red gaze as Cain stared at him. “Why so anxious to get me out of the picture, Brother?”

Growling softly, Abel glared at the idiot masquerading as his brother. “Think for a minute, Cain. With you off in your own corner of the world, there is no one here to prevent peace between the kingdoms and the Empire. With peace between the kingdoms and the Empire, my promise is fulfilled and I’m free of it.”

Understanding dawned in Cain’s eyes, Abel felt like hitting his head against the throne. Gods above and below, was Cain truly that ignorant? Or did he just not care? Perhaps he could actually push Cain out of Europe, simplifying everyone’s life. 

“You know, it’s cheaper to start a kingdom than a revolution,” Abel absently added. “Sure, a kingdom’s expensive at first, but then, taxes start coming in and revenue from the citizens, and it starts building in the treasury again. Revolutions involve spending a lot of money without much being returned.” He glanced at Isaak. “Of course, there wouldn’t be much entertainment in a kingdom that was getting started, but there is in putting out brush fires to keep peace going.”

“I shall think on what you said,” Cain remarked, glancing between Abel and Isaak. “I will give you my decision by the new year. Until then, enjoy Isaak.” Turning, he swept away, apparently uncaring about the predicament he left behind. Namely, how was Abel going to explain to Catarina that his brother left his pet with him?

Glancing up at Isaak, Abel offered a wry smile. “Any objections to coming back with me?”

Isaak smirked and looked down at him. “Are you sure you can keep me sufficiently entertained?”

Tightening his grip on the lock of hair, he used it as a leash to pull Isaak down. “I believe I might have a few things to keep you occupied. The main question is do I wish to collar you and let everyone know my pretty pet is off limits or just fuck you until you can’t walk?”

Isaak shuddered, his eyes wide with lust as he was pulled off the arm and into Abel’s lap. Abel’s smirk grew at the sight of the vampire sprawled across his lap, and he let his cup drop from his fingers as he buried his hands in dark hair. Pulling Isaak up, he kissed him, deep and claiming as fangs clacked together. Hands fluttered across Abel’s chest, never settling anywhere, and he purred deep in his throat as his hands came up to strip off the sweater Isaak was wearing. He casually dropped it next to the throne before pinching pale nipples and getting a groan for his troubles.

“I like that sound,” purred Abel, nipping at Isaak’s lips. “Let’s see how many others you make.” The vampire could only moan as Abel devoted his full attention to him.


End file.
